


Five Times The Pack Noticed The Love Between Derek and Stiles and The One Time They Noticed It For Themselves

by whiry



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Derek and Stiles are Mates, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, boys are v dumb, but it's not like mating mates, if we're being real, probably not enough fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiry/pseuds/whiry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know I was a ridiculous child when first pulled into this world of supernaturals, but I’ve grown a lot and I’ve learned a lot and if I could my life over again, the only thing I would do differently is accept the whole experience with open arms from the beginning. That and maybe kiss Derek the first time I saw his stupid face."</p><p>That’s when Derek laughs, a little loud and a little surprised. He smiles, ducking his head slightly, but his eyes are shinning and he has an arm slung around the back of Stiles’ chair. It’s a melodic sort of sound and it makes Stiles grin; Allison thinks it’s one of the prettiest sounds she’s ever heard. That and Scott’s breathless sighs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times The Pack Noticed The Love Between Derek and Stiles and The One Time They Noticed It For Themselves

_**i.**_

 

Erica saw Stiles smile once.

Not his normal grin that he wears almost constantly whenever making quips or cracking jokes, but the little pull of the corner of his lips whenever he’s with Derek. It’s small and mainly in his eyes, and she knows Stiles has never looked at anyone like that, will probably only ever look at Derek like that.  
It was an accident, though, her seeing this private grin. It’s Tuesday, one night of the biweekly pack meetings (Even though they all hang out every day anyway), and Erica has kitchen duty. It sucks and she hates cooking for six werewolves and four humans, especially considering all ten of them, herself included, eat like wild animals (pun _totally_ intended).

She’s making omelets and considering the need for parsley when she hears Stiles laugh. It’s not uncommon for him to laugh at all, but she thinks he’ll be a better judge for how parsley would work with said omelets.

She heads to the doorway connecting the kitchen to the hallway and can see Stiles and Derek lounging on the leather couch Lydia had bought them when Derek decided to completely rebuild the Hale house, adding new rooms so everyone has their own. Lydia spent a good chunk of her own money helping with the house, especially in the living room and her own bedroom. Erica happily chose to take some stuff from home and bring it to Derek’s; it only felt right considering this was her new home.

The boys were lounging on the couch, acting all cutesy as Erica stood in the archway. She figured Derek could smell and hear her, but he seemed a little caught up with Stiles, holding the younger boy close and cupping his cheek with his hand. Derek had a dopey lovesick grin on his face, ones he wore whenever he saw Stiles, but Stiles himself had his special smile plastered on. His eyes were shinning and he was staring at Derek like the older man had hung the moon. Derek had pulled Stiles in for a kiss after a moment, one too soft and special for Erica to interrupt, so, like the good little Beta she is, she pulled out her phone and took a picture.

It made it to Instagram within the hour, and even Derek liked it, though he commented with a poop emoji.

 

++++ 

_**ii.** _

 

Scott saw Derek’s smile once.

It was unlike anything he had seen, so soft and caring, like Stiles is the most beautiful thing Derek has ever seen. Scott’s never really seen Stiles like that, but he’s really glad Derek does.

It happens when the newest threat—a hoard of faeries—flocks into town and hurts Stiles. It’s only a scrape on his forearm, but Derek shakes with rage and snarls at anyone who gets close to Stiles. It’s not until Stiles himself slaps the back of Derek’s head and insists that “it’s a scratch Derek it’s not going to kill me stop sniffing me dude it tickles”.

The pack gathers in Derek’s living room and Scott watches as Derek shuffles close to Stiles, not exactly touching but not more than a foot apart. Derek is kind of weird about making a fuss in front of the pack; he’s always private about loving Stiles, unless he’s seriously in the zone or whatever. Stiles is always open about loving everyone, constantly hugging or kissing his friends and family, but he’s always just a little closer to Derek than anyone else, always hugs him the longest, kisses his lips instead of his cheek, stands or sits beside him each time they’re together. Scott once asked about Stiles always being close to Derek and Stiles had just laughed.

“I like to think we’re making up for lost time, ya know? We spent a good portion of our lives staring at each other from across the room and while I’m cool with that and all, I just prefer to stare at him up close,” he’d said. Scott didn’t bother asking Derek why he was so private and personal with Stiles; he’d understood. Derek had a lot of bad shit happen to him and Stiles was his own little moon, the one thing he needed most in the universe, the one thing that kept him gravitated. Derek didn’t want to let Stiles go, didn’t want anyone to know how much he loved Stiles in fear of hurting the boy; Scott feels that with Allison, especially with her family’s rogue Hunters.

Derek stands beside Stiles and he stands tall, like an Alpha. Stiles stands tall too and Scott never noticed how close in height the boys were. “We need a plan of attack,” he says and Stiles snorts. Derek glares.

“‘Plan of attack’? Really, Der?” The wolf’s ears turn red at the nickname. “Look, faeries are vulnerable to iron and silver. Shoot it with a special bullet slash arrow and boom—dead. ’Less you want to talk it out with them.”

“I don’t suggest that,” Allison chirps. She’s perched on the sofa, cleaning an arrow nonchalantly. “The faeries we were dealing with were not your ordinary faeries. They had fangs.”

“And claws,” Lydia adds.

“So shoot ’em,” Stiles says, shrugging before wrapping his arms around Derek’s waist.

“Stiles,” Derek starts, but Stiles shakes his head.

“Shut up and let yourself be loved,” the human says and Scott catches Derek’s smile, small and just for Stiles, his eyes twinkling. Lydia must see it too, because she huffs a little and tosses her hair over her shoulder, pointedly looking away from the boys as if to give them privacy. Then Scott catches Stiles leaning up a little to kiss Derek and he promptly turns on his heel and leaves the living room.

Scott feels sorry for talking about Allison so much when he first started dating her, but he’s happy Stiles has someone to gush over.

 

++++

_**iii.**_

 

Allison has never heard Derek laugh and it weirds her out.

The group has decided to have a huge family dinner, the Sheriff and Melissa included. Boyd and Jackson line two long tables up together outside, making a large square. Lydia, Erica, and Isaac bring the chairs outside while Allison and Scott set a large tablecloth or two over the top of the table. Lydia then shoos everyone except Allison and Erica, forcing the girls to help her decorate the table and set it properly. Erica doesn’t know the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork and Allison doesn’t understand why they need two spoons, but they all head back inside laughing, so maybe it’s not a loss after all.

Boyd knows a really great couscous recipe and Isaac insists on making pasta primavera. Stiles bakes cookies with the help of Melissa while Derek and the Sheriff grill some steaks. Everyone has a glass of wine and water and the whole experience is so elegant that Allison doesn’t know how she got so lucky to be a part of a pack, to have friends like this. She’s wearing her best dress and heels, hair curled and dimples out. Lydia forced everyone to dress up and even Stiles has on a button up, though the sleeves are rolled up, the fabric is a little wrinkled, and he’s wearing sneakers and jeans.

Stiles is the one to call a toast, rising from his seat and clinking his fork to his wine glass obnoxiously until everyone was glaring at him. “I just wanted to say,” he begins after setting his fork and glass down, “that I’m really happy to have come to know all of you these past few years. I mean, I grew up with Lydia and didn’t learn about her passion for math until freshman year. And it took me almost fifteen years to realize Jackson’s not that big of a douche.” Jackson throws his bread roll, but it misses Stiles by a good foot. “I know I was a ridiculous child when first pulled into this world of supernaturals, but I’ve grown a lot and I’ve learned a lot and if I could my life over again, the only thing I would do differently is accept the whole experience with open arms from the beginning. That and maybe kiss Derek the first time I saw his stupid face.”

That’s when Derek laughs, a little loud and a little surprised. He smiles, ducking his head slightly, but his eyes are shinning and he has an arm slung around the back of Stiles’ chair. It’s a melodic sort of sound and it makes Stiles grin; Allison thinks it’s one of the prettiest sounds she’s ever heard. That and Scott’s breathless sighs.

“I like who I am today,” Stiles continues finally. “I like that I met you all, that we’re friends, family, pack. I love each and every single one of you, even Jackson.” Stiles winks and Jackson doesn’t fight his grin this time. “Thank you all for being so wonderful and giving me the best life I have ever known. To pack.” Everyone raises their glass and repeats the two words, everyone except Derek and Stiles, who are now sharing a small kiss. Allison hides her grin behind her glass.

 

++++ 

_**iv.** _

 

Jackson never expected to cry over Stiles Stilinski, but stranger things have happened.

It’s an accident, of course, in which Derek tells Stiles to stay put and he doesn’t and usually it works out fine for everybody and the couple will fight and then have very disgusting and loud makeup sex, but today was not the same.

It’s a giant and Derek is already pissed off that the thing has the _audacity_ to invade his territory. The worst part is that the giant is almost completely defeated, thanks to Stiles’ little tip on Earth Giants and fire not mixing too well. Jackson is clawing at the giant’s back when he hears Stilinski’s cry and Derek’s roar. It’s loud and it fills Jackson with so much rage that he just can’t see straight anymore.

By the time the thing is disintegrated, maybe a minute later, Derek has kneeled at Stiles’ side and taken his hand, pulling pain from the younger boy. Most of Derek’s veins are black, coursing all though his body, and Stiles looks loopy as hell. Jackson can’t tell where Stilinski is bleeding from, but there’s a lot of blood and he can practically taste it in his mouth. He feels Lydia pushing past him and running toward the Hale house, hears Scott snarl and sob at the same time, hears Isaac whimper, but he feels like he’s stuck in molasses, watching Stilinski die in front of him.

Despite all the years of torturing Stiles, Jackson has grown fond of the kid. Stiles has always been a smartass who had a thing for Lydia, until he didn’t and Jackson was bit. Ever since then, Stiles has watched Jackson grow and Jackson watched Stiles grow fond of Jackson. Stiles would begin to smile kindly at the wolf, look upon him with a strange form of pride. His eyes shone especially bright whenever Jackson took down Derek in training or made Lydia laugh. Stiles was secretly rooting for Jackson, always had been.

Jackson chokes on a sob and everyone except Derek and Stiles notice. Erica stares at him incredulously, but Allison has a look of sympathy, like she knows exactly what Jackson is thinking.

He surges forward, dropping to his knees beside Stiles. He faintly hears the Camaro’s engine start, knows Lydia will be back soon, and he takes Stiles’ hand in his own. Stiles look over at Jackson and smiles brightly. And though Stiles is one of the younger members of the group, even though Jackson is older than him, Stiles has this terribly wonderful way of making Jackson feel like a child.

“Lydia is coming,” Derek says suddenly, his voice rough. It’s only when Jackson feels a tear slip down his cheek that he realizes he’s crying. Derek probably means the comment for Jackson, but when Stiles turns his head to Derek, and Stiles gives Derek a small so soft and so warm that even Jackson’s heart aches, Derek can’t help but let out a little sob himself. He buries his noise in Stiles’ neck, breathing heavily and Stiles runs his free hand up and down Derek’s back as he looks over at Jackson.

“I’m okay,” he says. Jackson doesn’t believe him, but Stiles squeezes Jackson’s hand and he can’t help but at least smile at the young human.

 

Since Stiles’ father is the only true family Stiles has, he is the only one allowed to sit in the boy’s room. But since Melissa’s on duty today, she allows Scott and Derek to sneak in for a little while. After about two hours Scott comes back out and gives Jackson a grim but pointed look, signaling it his turn to go next.

Derek sits at Stiles’ bedside, holding his hand and sleeping on his free arm, face turned toward Stiles. The Sheriff is in the other chair in the corner, passed out with his arms crossed over his chest. Jackson stands on the other side of Stiles’ bed.

“Stiles?” Jackson whispers. The human’s heart monitor blips a second before continuing at a steady pace, but it’s enough to make Derek wake up and jump to his feet. He brushes Stiles’ hair back before looking over at Jackson, giving him a microscopic nod and a sleepy blink. He sits down and squeezes Stiles’ hand.

“His heart did that the first time he heard my voice too,” Derek admits, voice thick with sleep. “The doctor said it was just Stiles’ subconscious recognizing his loved ones.”

“Why does he care so much? About me, about the pack. I mean, I know a lot of them have done good, but I… I was awful to him. Why does he care about me?”

Derek shrugs. “I don’t really know. I think he understands, though, how you feel. He knows you lost both parents, he knows how it feels to lose at least one. I think he understood the pressure you were putting on yourself and he’s watched you change ever since. I’m not saying you’re that great of a guy now, but you’re a helluva lot better than you were before, and Stiles is pretty good at seeing the best and worst in people.”

Jackson can only nod, feeling somewhat empty and useless at the same time. He should’ve been better to Stiles, he has been getting better, but it isn’t enough. Derek huffs before nodding at Stiles' free hand. “Go on,” he commands, “let him know you’re here.” Jackson does as told, taking the human’s hand in his own. Stiles’ heart monitor blips again, only for a nanosecond, and Jackson stops breathing. But he squeezes Stiles’ hand lightly before opting to step out of the room.

Stiles wakes after another three hours and Melissa lets Scott, Derek, and the Sheriff see him first before the rest of the pack bursts into the room. Jackson’s the last one through the door, but Stiles still smiles at him like he’s done something wonderful and it makes the wolf’s heart ache. He wasn’t always a great person to Stiles, but Stiles never seemed to care that much. Besides, he’s here now and even Derek claps Jackson on the shoulder after the Beta hugs the boy, smiling just the slightest before returning to his mate’s side.

 

++++

_**v.**_

 

Lydia is not blind, especially not with Stiles and Derek.

She’s watched them dance around each other for years, and the U.S.T. was _smothering_ her. But then one thing lead to another and now it’s the _resolved_ sexual tension that’s truly killing her.

The boys are known for fighting; it’s what they do. There is not an hour gone by where the two of them don’t fight, not even in their sleep. But it’s never bad and there’s always makeup sex if someone crosses a line. (There’s always sex if someone doesn’t cross line, though, so maybe that’s not the best example.) And Lydia’s always thought Derek would be the one to break Stiles’ heart, if it every got bad. She thought perhaps Derek would get bored of Stiles, think a human wasn’t worth his time, always thought Stiles would be the one to curl in a ball and sob. But it’s Derek who she finds in his bedroom closet, looking rather dead and empty, and she doesn’t even know what the hell happened.

“Derek?” she asks, but the wolf is staring straight ahead. “Derek, it’s me, Lydia. Are you okay?’ He doesn’t look over, doesn’t seem to notice her. “Derek, what happened?”

“Stiles,” he chokes out finally, before burying his head in his arms. His shoulder shake a little and it takes Lydia a minute to realize he’s _crying_. Her big bad Alpha is _sobbing_ , and she has no fucking clue what to do.

Lydia hesitates before sitting on the closet floor beside Derek and carefully wrapping an arm around him. He instantly crumbles against her, crying into her shoulder. Lydia pats his head awkwardly, bringing her other hand around to cup his cheek.

“What happened?” She whispers, afraid she’ll spook Derek if she speaks too loud. He doesn’t startle, but instead buries himself in Lydia’s shoulder.

“We… fought.”

“Where is he?”

“Gone.”

“Gone gone?”

Derek doesn’t reply, but Lydia feels his claws press softly against her back, probably ripping her shirt. She sighs, and he’s really lucky she likes him so much. She rubs his back, resting her cheek atop his head. “He’ll come back, Der.” He crumples at the nickname. “He always does, you know that.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, _I_ know so.” Lydia pulls away to hold Derek’s face in her small hands. “He loves you more than you’ll ever know. If he’s not back by dinner, then he’ll be back before bed. He’s never gone that long.”

“I just don’t—” Derek cuts himself off with a choked sob. Lydia lets him curl in on himself again, rewrapping her arms around him. “Everyone leaves,” he whispers, and it’s so broken that it makes her eyes water. She sniffles and pulls Derek much closer.

“Not Stiles, not your pack.”

Stiles does return, an hour before dinner, with Chinese takeout for everyone. He lets the pack eat and goes upstairs to speak with Derek. They don’t return until halfway through the after-dinner-movie, but they’re holding hands and when they sit on the couch, Derek curls into Stiles’ chest and falls asleep. Stiles runs his fingers through Derek’s hair and accidentally catches Lydia’s eye.

 _He loves you_ , she mouths to him. He smiles sheepishly and nods.

 _I know_ , he mouths back.

 

++++ 

_**+i.**_

 

Stiles doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

Sometimes he’ll wake up in the early mornings and he’ll turn over to see Derek fast asleep, lips slightly parted, eyelashes resting on his cheeks. Derek sleeps closest to the door, always facing Stiles, facing the window. Stiles watches the morning light shine across Derek’s features: his strong jaw, his sharp cheekbones, his too-thick eyebrows that Stiles love running a finger over. He’s so unbelievably handsome and that’s not even the best thing about him; his beauty is just a perk.

Derek is something else, something Stiles has only ever seen in one person: his mother. Derek has a heart, bigger than anyone else. He has soul and spirit; he’d die before he let someone he loved feel pain. He would risk his life to save the world, would hold the sky on his back until the end of Earth. Stiles has never known anyone that selfless, nor has he ever known someone that broken.

But Derek has love within him, and he chose to share it with Stiles. He holds Stiles close and kisses him passionately, wraps him up like he is the sun and Derek has frostbite. He loves Stiles so much, more than Stiles can comprehend, and Stiles doesn’t know how to tell Derek he loves him back. He’s sure Derek knows, though; the whole pack knows. And actions speak louder than words, but, God, words mean so much to Stiles. He feels as though Derek should know every little moment where Stiles loved Derek, every single second. He would give Derek the world and ask for nothing in return and that terrifies him. But he still loves him regardless, because he can’t help it and he doesn’t want to.

He knows Derek knows when he catches the first smile, small and warm, just for him. He knows it when Derek finally tries curly fries for the first time and says “they’re not awful.” He knows it when Derek does the laundry and makes the bed. He knows it whenever Derek gets that look in his eye, the one full of love, hope, light. He knows he’ll never need anything more.

Stiles is the one to propose. He does it before bed one night with a ring pop. Derek laughs at first, but his eyes shine a little and he kisses Stiles like there’s no tomorrow. The ceremony is small and meaningful, and it takes place the night of the full moon. Derek and his wolves run before the ceremony takes place and when Derek returns, he brings a stag to place at Stiles’ feet proudly. Stiles fake gags, but he real cries later on (though he denies it).

They find two cubs at a local orphanage, a boy and a girl. They’re siblings and they’re bonded; Derek loves them immediately. Stiles let them sniff him all over before they smile and hug him, and somehow he still gets a little teary-eyed. So they build a pack, full of love and hope, full of new possibilities, new members. Everyone stays in Beacon Hills, each build a house in the preserve, and they create the strongest and brightest bond ever seen within a wolf pack. Derek smiles every single day, constantly surrounded by the ones he loves and Stiles feels like he can take on the world, knowing he is never alone.

It’s a little damaged and a little rocky, but they learn to manage and they carry on. They’ve never been perfect, never will be, but they all know their bond is something worth fighting for. Derek never lets go; Stiles never backs down.

And sometimes, Stiles thinks of how much his mother would’ve loved Derek, and his heart aches—in a good way.

**Author's Note:**

> First ever published fic and I'm freaking out. Unbeta'd, so expect mistakes (and the vast missue of commas). Still learning the ropes of publishing and actually having to add tags, so that's fun.
> 
> tumblr: http://provokiing.tumblr.com/
> 
> side note: guess who's a huge fucking fan of stiles supporting jackson? this gal!


End file.
